Title: Five Dances
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: There are different types of dances, and each of the WITCH girls has her favorite. WillxCaleb, CorneliaxDrake, romance, family, and friendship fluff.
Will: Parties
As always, Cornelia's party was a success. Will had to struggle to make her way through the crowded room, between people dancing, drinking, and generally making a mess of Cornelia's apartment. Predicting this problem, of course, Cornelia had already recruited the guardian's for the clean-up crew, meaning that Will was less busy enjoying the party and more busy glaring down every student who so much as set down a glass with no coaster.
Of course, the other girls were all enjoying themselves. Cornelia and Alchemy were trading compliments on their clothing. Hay-Lin was talking to some students about a fancy piece of art in the Hale's living room. Irma had grabbed Martin by the collar and dragged him off the dance floor, to nobody's surprise. Even Taranee, who Will had been counting on to be her party buddy, was having fun, dancing with some handsome boy in the middle of the room. In fact, the only person as miserable as her was… Caleb.
Cornelia had invited him as a gesture of goodwill, an apology for breaking up with him. Besides, she said, He was a student as Sheffield for a while, shouldn't he also enjoy graduation?
But he seemed to be doing anything but enjoying the party, as he skulked in a corner.
"Hey, Mister Sunshine," Will greeted, leaning against the wall next to him.
"Oh, Hey Will."
"Enjoying the party?"
He gave her a pointed look.
"Right, sorry for asking."
"You don't look to be having any fun, either."
"I'm in the clean-up committee."
"Ah. One benefit of being single, no girls to force you to help them clean."
Will smiled apologetically at him.
"How are you holding up?"
"Pretty well."
"Really?"
He gave her another look. Will looked around and caught Cornelia's eye. The blonde smiled encouragingly at her, and nodded to Caleb. Looks like Will was also on ex-boyfriend sitting duty.
She didn't really get why Corny had dumped him. He was handsome, brave, a rebel leader and a nice guy. But Cornelia had just fallen out of love with him.
"Look, if you don't wanna be here…"
"I do," He insisted. "Really, it'll just… take some getting used to."
"Oh?"
"I mean, I dated Corny for years. It's gonna be weird just being friends, you know."
"But you don't mind it?"
"Nah, I just want her to be happy." He turned to Will and smiled. "Besides, I think deep down, I was ready to move on, too."
Will smiled, weirdly glad to hear it. Of course she wanted him to be happy. He was almost as good a friend to her as Corny was. Not to mention he totally deserved it.
"I bet you figured breaking up with Corny meant you weren't gonna be forced to dance anymore, huh?"
"What do you mean? no one's forcing me to-"
But by then, Will had grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto the dancefloor.
"If you're at a party, you might as well enjoy it."
Caleb looked like he was about to argue, but stopped when Will slipped her hand into his, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Instead, he placed his hand on her waist, as the music slowed to a ballad. For some reason, Will found that she was blushing, but she didn't want to think about why.
"Thanks," He said, after a few moments of silence.
"What for?"
"Oh, you know. Just being you."
Will grinned. She'd worry about being clean-up crew in the morning. For now, she wanted to focus on having fun.
Irma: Verbal
"Did you take out the trash, Irma?"
"Yes, mother. Christopher is out by the dumpster and will be collected Tuesday morning."
"Haha, very funny."
"Thanks, I'm here all week!"
Her mother appeared at her door, a stern look on her face.
"When I ask you to do simple chores, you could at least try and get them done."
"I did try!" Irma protested, sitting up, "I gave the trash the good-ol' one-two-punch but he was just stronger than me. You can't win em all, mom."
Mrs. Lair rolled her eyes.
"If a single conversation with you didn't wear me out, I'd press this further. Just get it done by tonight, please."
"I will, I will, calm down."
She didn't.
"Irma!"
"What?"
"Did I or did I not tell you to deal with the trash?"
"Well, Who can say for sure?"
"Irma…"
"I mean, if a tree falls in the forest, and no one's around to hear…"
"Irma…"
"And what is hearing, anyways? Is it just registering words have been said, or is it understanding? And can things really be said if they are not understood?"
"That's it- verbal sparring done, real-life grounding beginning."
"Aw, come on, mom! My words aren't sparing, they're… dancing. Graceful, elegant, like the wind."
"And unlike you'll be for the next three days."
Irma sighed.
"Oh, and if you didn't understand that, let me explain. You leave your room for anything but school and chores, no allowance for a month."
With that, she closed the door. But Irma wasn't worried. She was a verbal meistro, all she had to do was pick up the pace.
"So, mom," she began the next day, as her mother prepared dinner. "Which VMJ hairstyle do you like best? I think dark hair works best but Corny really likes the wig he had as a Treundleblot."
"Hm? Oh, I don't know, honey…"
"Well, it's a pretty simple question, isn't it? The dark hair I think brings out his skin tone and his eyes best, I mean really makes them pop. But the wig is hunky in that rugged way. I guess it's a matter of preference…"
She never lost her time or pace, never slowed or stopped or stumbled. She was quick and her endurance was unheard of. Finally, Mrs. Lair gave in.
"Argh! Enough! Irma, honey, you know what? I think you've learned your lesson. Why don't you go over to Will's or Taranee's?"
"But mom, aren't I grounded?"
"Irma, honey?"
"Yes, mother dearest?"
"Get. Out. Of. This. House. Now"
Suppressing the urge to bow, Irma obeyed her mother.
Taranee: Performance
Normally shy and bashful, one might be shocked to see Taranee Cook, yes, that Taranee Cook, in glittering makeup and sparkling fuschia hotpants. Yet there she was, backstage at the Sheffield Institute auditorium, rolling off her leg warmers and strapping on her bright blue dance shoes.
She could hear the music outside as the classical performers finished their routine. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and she distantly heard a few girls should to their friends onstage. She was sure her own friends, somewhere in the audience, were rolling their eyes at this, though they'd be screaming her name louder than anyone else after her turn.
"You ready?" Her coach asked her, smiling down.
"I was born ready," Taranee said, with a confidence that might seem strange, even to her best friends.
There had always been two Taranee's. Regular Taranee, who went to school and saved the world and dated Nigel and spent time with her friends, and an entity she called Dance Taranee. Dance Taranee only ever did one thing, but she did it with poise, confidence, and a fire that one would expect of this particular guardian. Dance Taranee was free, had no responsibilities, no duties to school or her family or the world. All she had to do was move, and that was easy.
"Next act line up!" Martin, the stage manager, called out. Smiling to her coach, Taranee walked to the wings of the stage. From the corner of her eye she could see her mother and brother in the audience. And what she presumed was her father's shoulder.
While her brother seemed happy to be there, her mother seemed a bit… strained. Probably sentencing criminals in her head to pass the time. Taranne felt her spirit dampen a little. This was important to her- why couldn't her mother see that and be happy she was doing so well? It may not be model UN but it meant a lot to her, and she wanted it to mean something to her mother, too.
Dance Taranee, however, couldn't care less. She didn't do this for anyone but herself. Her mother may not appreciate it, but so what? She didn't need her approval.
She heard a loud whoop and immediately recognized Irma's voice.
Regular Taranee breathed a sigh of relief. Her friends were there, supporting her, like she always needed them too. In a fight, she always felt useless without them. Without them in the audience, she couldn't find the courage to go outside, let alone perform.
Dance Taranee doesn't care. She is self-reliant, independent, and needs no one but herself to succeed.
"Next up, Taranee Cook!"
With a deep sigh, Taranee forgets that anyone exists but Dancing Taranee, and enters onto the stage, the lights go out, a spotlight shines, and the music begins to build.
In the moments before she allows her alter ego to consume her, she hears her friends whooping and clapping in the audience, and thinks how glad she is that she isn't always Dancing Taranee.
Cornelia: Fight
It was the day before the fifth anniversary of Phobos' defeat, and Meridian was in full-on-preparation mode. Maids and cooks rushed back and forth around the castle, cleaning and decorating and cooking and placing. It had gotten to the point where the guardians and the queen's honor guard had been politely, yet sternly, asked if they might want to head into the gardens and out of the castle, please.
Cornelia and the girls were lying on their backs in the sunshine, in civilian clothing. Elyon had insisted on having dresses made for them, but for today, they were relaxing in whatever as comfortable. Even Cornelia had opted for casual leggings and a tank top, and had ignored any snarky comment thrown her way.
The boys, of course, had been unable to simply sit quietly and enjoy the company and the weather, had decided to spar. Currently, Caleb and Drake were circling each other, throwing punches and kicks with speed and skill.
"Go Caleb!" Will cheered. The brown-haired boy winked at her.
"Go Drake!" Irma responded, grinning at Will. Drake simply smiled.
"Hey," the redhead protested, "no cheering against my boyfriend."
"What? Someone's gotta support him? Who else is gonna do it? Corny?"
"Not with that form," she responded with a smirk. It grew wider when Drake's eyes met hers.
"Ooh…" Caleb taunted, stepping back. "Those are fightin words, Cornelia."
"Well, with that opponent, I wouldn't be so worried." Her eyes stayed trained on the blonde warrior the entire time she spoke.
"Really, guardian? I doubt you'd last one round against me."
"You'd be face first in dirt before you got one punch in."
"Please, without powers, I'd take you in a minute."
"I'm pretty sure he already wants to," Irma whispered to Hay-Lin, who suppressed a sniger as she blushed.
"Oh, you think that after five years, I didn't pick up any moves?" Cornelia stood, hoping to come face to face with Drake, only to reach about his chin.
"Would you like to test them?"
"It's on."
The two began to circle one another slowly.
"Should we get a first aide kit ready?" Taranee asked, somewhat worried.
"For which one?" Will responded.
Who lunged first, it was hard to tell. But before anyone knew it, they were moving quickly and fluidly. It was a storm of motion, diving in and out, moving closer together only to separate. No hits seemed to be landing, but weather it was because they were both dodging skillfully, or because neither was truly aiming for the other, who could tell.
"Go Corny!" was the general cheer of the guardians, while Caleb, Aldarn, Vathek, and Blunk all cheered for Drake.
But for all the noise, all Cornelia was aware of was Drake. From the intense look on his face, to the sweat forming on his skin, to the muscles that moved as he did, she was focused on every inch of his form. And not only because of the fight.
It took a few minutes for a winner to be determined. In a moment, Cornelia had lunged, hitting Drake squarely in the eye and knocking them both down. He landed on his back in the grass and she fell on top of him, her long hair hanging down and shielding their faces from the rest of the crowd. They were deaf to the cheers.
"Your eye…" Cornelia said, lightly brushing her fingers against the skin, where a bruise was forming.
"You've maimed me. Who will dance with me at the ball now that I'm hideous?" His voice was soft.
"Oh, please," she muttered.
"You'll just have to make it up to me by dancing all the dances with me."
"That's something I think I can live with."
It was only moments later when the two remembered where they were, and hastily stood up.
"Told you," She said with a smirk.
"Please, I let you win."
"As if…"
Hay-Lin: Goofy
Ice cream? Check.
Pajamas? Check.
More pillows than any human could reasonably justify owning? Double Check.
From snacks to comfort, the perfect sleepover had been set up in the recently-renovated basement of the silver somewhat stinky, it was now a colorful and clean room where the girls could both plot to fight evil and have the occasional weekend party.
Or, in this case, a sleepover.
For the first time in months, there was no evil luring around every corner. No cackling baddy to defeat, no battles to be won, and no imminent doom. The most dramatic things happening in their lives were boy drama and school work, which was a welcome change. Hay Lin couldn't remember a time when she was genuinely worried about school. It always seemed that, whatever homework assignment was looming in the distance, a snake-monster of evil hag was looming just a little closer.
But finally, they got a break. And the girls chose to take advantage of it by having a slumber party.
Decked out in their finest sleepwear, they had circled up on the floor, with bowls of brownie sundae's at the ready.
"So, Hay Hay," Irma asked, "truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"Boo, that's no fun," the brunette muttered. "Fine, fine." She thought for a moment. "What's Eric like in bed?"
"Irma!"
"What?"
Blushing, Hay Lin muttered her answer.
"What was that?"
"I believe," Will said with a smirk, "Hay Lin just confessed that they hadn't done anything yet."
"What? No way," Corny said, leaning forwards, "You guys have been dating for, like, an eon!"
"Come on guys, drop it," Taranee said. Hay-Lin shot her a grateful smile, before Tara's smirk appeared, "We can analyze Hay-Lin's stunted sexual drive later."
"Hey!" That the pillow knocked Taranee's glasses off was a testament to Hay-Lin's aim.
The game continued. They learned that Will had once peed her pants at age sixteen, That Irma had kissed Martin while drunk, that Taranee found hands attractive, that Cornelia was, in fact, doing it with Drake, and many more secrets. They also witnessed Irma chugging a glass of hot sauce, Cornelia doing her make-up with toothpaste, and Will trying-and failing-to imitate Mr. Collins. Tara had wisely avoided selecting any dares.
"Hay Lin, it's you again."
"Fine, dare."
"Okay," Irma said, "I dare you to show us your best dance moves."
With a smirk, Hay-Lin and cracked her knuckles.
"Will?"
"On it," the redhead responded, before the radio flicked on. After moments of static, it started up, and changed from station to station until it settled on something decidedly cheesy and disco.
Wasting no time, Hay Lin broke into her best Elvis moves. Starting with a hip-shimmy, she moved into some finger-pointing and swaying, not caring how dumb she looked.
"Wooh, go Hay Lin!" Irma called, before jokingly throwing a crumpled dollar bill her way.
Deciding her pale imitation of disco was getting tired, Hay Lin smirked and grabbed Irma by her hand, yanking her up to join the party. The two began an uncoordinated dance, somewhere between the polka and a waltz.
"You call that harmony?" Will jeered, "The Oracle would be ashamed!"
"Well, show us how it's done!" Before Will could protest, she too had been pulled into the impromptu dance party. After that, Cornelia and Taranee fell like flies, and all five girls were jumping around mindlessly to the music.
The song ended, and the girls fell into an exhausted, laughing heap on the floor. Hay Lin's hands found Cornelia's and Will's, and she somehow knew Irma and Taranee were connected as well.
If there was one thing- just one thing- that made the years of pain and hardship worth it, it was this.
Hay-Lin thought back to the battles, from Phobos, who had first struck fear into her heart, to Nerissa, who had captured her grandmother and boyfriend, to all the other villains they'd faced, each of whom had grown deadlier and more terrifying. Would she have made it, without the four girls by her side? She didn't need to think long to know the answer. Be it Will's leadership, Irma's jokes, Taranee's smarts, or Cornelia's strength, it was them who'd pushed her through the toughest fights and most gruesome battles. And she knew that she had returned the favor to them.
Maybe they were soulmates, the five of them. Maybe they were destined to find each other and befriend one another. When Irma had introduced herself to Hay Lin with a toothy smile in kindergarten, perhaps that was fate's way of saying here's this one, she's made for you.
Or maybe they were bound by something more powerful- choice. The decision to unconditionally, irrevocably love one another.
But either way, Hay-Lin knew that she would never choose anyone else. From girls you could laugh with to fight with. She squeezed the hands beside her, and felt the action ripple through the circle, a wave of movement more beautiful than any dance.
Hey All! Thanks for reading! If you have any thoughts at all, please drop a review! I will respond to each one that I can!